


Happy Accidents

by I May Age Regress (shnuffeluv)



Series: Gibbs' Family [72]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Arguing, Domestic Fluff, Father's Day, Gen, Men Crying, Non-Sexual Age Play, Painting, Presents, woodworking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 00:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/I%20May%20Age%20Regress
Summary: Father's Day is in a week and DiNozzo and McGee forgot to plan for it. They come up with a quick, but not-so-easy solution. All they have to do is pull it off...





	Happy Accidents

DiNozzo skidded to a halt in the middle of the bullpen, looking around frantically to see if Gibbs was around before spilling the news he had just found out. McGee looked up at him in mild alarm. "Tony? What's wrong? We hit a big case? Gibbs spill his coffee?"

When DiNozzo was sure Gibbs wasn't around, he walked up to McGee and leaned on his desk, whispering, "No, we've got a bigger problem. Father's Day is next week!"

"What?!" McGee asked, paling. "Last I checked it was three weeks ago! I-I don't have anything for him!"

"Neither do I!" DiNozzo hissed. "We need to think of something, fast!"

McGee hummed in thought before he made a triumphant noise and said, "What about making a birdhouse? They have kits at Home Depot, how hard can it be to make?"

"And Boss-man does like his flowers and nature and stuff," DiNozzo said, nodding along. "That's not a bad plan, Probie. What do we do once we get it? Like, where do we build it?"

"We could probably ask Abby for use of the ballistics lab if she's not using it. I don't want to risk one of us forgetting it at our house," McGee reasoned.

"Smart thinking, McGoo. We have about half an hour left in lunch, maybe we should come up with back-up plans or ideas for cards in the meantime?"

"Or not," McGee said, nodding towards the elevator, where Gibbs was walking in. "Talk about this after work," he whispered.

DiNozzo nodded and went back to his desk, settling in to do his work. Gibbs reached the bullpen and looked between him and McGee. "What were you two talking about just now?" he asked.

"Nothing much," DiNozzo said. "Just talking about Father's Day, actually."

Gibbs had a faint smile on his face as he asked, "Yeah? Got any plans?"

"Not much," McGee spoke up. "Thinking about maybe a visit over the weekend, but nothing too big."

"All right," Gibbs said, going to his desk. "Where's Ziva?"

"Still out at lunch, as far as I know," DiNozzo said. "Why? Do we have a case?"

"Not yet," Gibbs said.

That  _yet_  had an ominous ring to it, but surprisingly, nothing happened The rest of the day, leaving plenty of time in the evening for McGee and DiNozzo to slip out of NCIS to the nearest Home Depot, grab a bird house kit, and head back to the office to see if they could borrow Abby's lab.

"Of course you guys can borrow the ballistics room!" Abby exclaimed after DiNozzo quickly explained their predicament. "But maybe I should stay here to supervise you."

"Oh come on, Abby, we're adults! We can built one little birdhouse!" DiNozzo scoffed.

"Have you ever done it before?" Abby challenged.

"I have," McGee said. "It was a while ago, but I remember how to do it. We'll be fine, Abby."

"Okay..." Abby said doubtfully. "But did you two even get a hammer for the nails?"

DiNozzo froze before burying his face in his hands. "Crap."

"It's okay, I'll hold onto the kit for you," Abby assured. "But get all the tools you might need like a hammer, wood glue, that sort of stuff."

"It's Friday night, though," McGee said.

"We'll have to wait until Monday to work on it," DiNozzo said. "But it's fine. We'll make it work."

"You sure, Tony?" McGee asked doubtfully.

"Yeah, we'll make it work," DiNozzo said more firmly. "We have to."

* * *

As it turned out, Monday they couldn't work on it either. They had all the supplies they needed, but got called away on a case at the last minute, which ate up their Monday, Tuesday,  _and_  Wednesday. It wasn't until Thursday at lunch that they could begin their project.

"You guys really should have planned better," Abby chastised. "I've had my gift for Ducky planned for  _weeks_  now! So has Palmer!"

"Yeah, we get the picture, Abs," DiNozzo grumbled, as McGee wrestled with the plastic in the kit.

Abby closed the door to the ballistics room and there was sweet silence aside from the sound of warping plastic.

DiNozzo should have realized that this project would wind up going south the second McGee got the cover open only for everything to fly out in an imitation of a Hollywood explosion. But the lunch break was young, and he still had hope that this thing would work itself out. Clearly, he should not have expected so much.

The first thing they did was account for all the nails, and then picked up every piece of wood in the kit. Then they brought out the hammers and wood glue, and opened the instructions.

"These are in...three different languages," McGee said. "I thought this would be a birdhouse, not IKEA furniture."

"Let me see," DiNozzo said, snatching the paper from his hands. "Hm...English, Spanish, and Italian? Interesting choice, Italian, I would have put my money on French..."

McGee snatched the paper back. "Be serious," he growled. "We have two days to make this and give it a half-decent paint job, because I doubt we could get it stained or lacquered in time."

DiNozzo held his hands up. "A little levity never hurt anyone, Probie."

With some working, they managed to muddle their way through the instructions, and prepared to put the first nail in the house. Everything was lined up perfectly, the nail was sitting in a pre-made hole in the side of the board, when, " _Ow_!" Timmy exclaimed. "Watch where you swing the hammer!"

DiNozzo turned and saw Timmy sucking on his index finger. "Let me see," he said, bird house forgotten for the moment.

Timmy pulled his finger out of his mouth and DiNozzo winced as he saw the chipped nail and reddish skin around it that was sure to bruise. "I'm sorry bud. Go ask Abby for a band-aid, maybe? That looks pretty tame, but I'm sure it still hurts."

Grumbling, Timmy complied and DiNozzo lined up the boards and nail best he could with only one person there, and... _wham!_  The nail went in with one solid swing! A couple taps had it all the way in and Timmy came back, scowling. "Did it go in?" he asked.

"Yeah," DiNozzo said. "We've got it in."

"Cool," Timmy said. "Next nail?"

They continued in their building, DiNozzo taking extra care with the hammer after the first time. They still managed to hit themselves a couple more times, but it was nothing a band-aid couldn't hide. Soon the birdhouse was done, with a little wood glue on the front to keep in a perch for the birds. The house looked a little sideways, though, despite their best efforts.

Timmy tilted his head to the side. "I don't remember it looking quite like this the first time I made one of these."

DiNozzo clapped him on the shoulder. "It's fine, kid. We can prime it and paint it tonight, okay?"

Abby was waving her hands outside the lab and was pointing frantically to the door. "Crap, Gibbs is here, age up and help me hide this thing!"

Timmy crouched down and snagged the birdhouse, pressing it flush against one of the table legs. He stood up and swayed a little bit. "Head rush," McGee grumbled.

The two stumbled out of the ballistics lab just before Gibbs walked into the back office. "There you two are, where have you been all lunch?" he asked.

"Uh, here?" DiNozzo said. "We wanted to have a little lunch with Abby today. We didn't get a case did we?"

Gibbs ignored the question. "What's with the band-aids?"

DiNozzo looked down at his band-aid clad fingers and flexed them. "Uh..." he had no idea how to cover for this.

"Abby was making sure that the band-aids in her first aid kit didn't need to be replaced," McGee lied. "Sometimes if they're too old they start to crumble or not stick too well, this was her sample size."

"Nice one, McGee," DiNozzo muttered under his breath.

McGee glanced at him, a mischievous smile in his eyes.

"Well, come upstairs," Gibbs said. "Ziva brought cookies, and everyone's vying for them when she specifically made a few for you two."

The two went upstairs, exchanging glances the whole way. They hoped they would have enough time tonight to go downstairs, prime the wood, and then paint it.

* * *

That night, they snuck back down to Abby's lab, DiNozzo silently and McGee not-so-silently praying Gibbs wouldn't come looking for them, since their cars would still be in the parking lot when he left. Abby, by this point, was getting ready to leave the lab. "Careful, boys," she reminded. "And don't forget to lock the door on your way out."

"We've got it, Abby, don't worry," DiNozzo promised.

They went into the back and retrieved the birdhouse, coating the whole thing in the primer DiNozzo had gotten, while McGee pulled out a set of paints. "I figured we could make the base white and then cover it up with whatever designs we wanted to after that dries?" he offered.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan," DiNozzo agreed. "What kind of design, though?"

"Well, that's the part I don't really know...yet. I figured you'd have some idea."

DiNozzo shook his head. "Not really," he said. He checked the primer. "It's still a little wet. What are we gonna do for a design? We can't just keep it plain white, can we?"

"I'm sure Papa wouldn't mind," McGee said, bits of Timmy's uncertainty starting to show. "But still, I was hoping this could be really really special."

DiNozzo frowned in thought. "I mean, we could just fling paint on the house and wherever it sticks is where it goes?"

McGee wrinkled his nose. "What, like a Jackson Pollock or something?"

"Yeah," DiNozzo said with a shrug. "I think the bright colors could attract birds, don't you?"

McGee hummed in thought. "Maybe..." He shook his head. "I don't know. I'm just used to whatever I'm doing being...not good enough, you know? It's weird to think that Papa might like something less than perfect. Too weird. And it has to be good still, because don't you think Papa would at least want something that would function right?"

"In my experience, Gibbs likes whatever I've made him when small, because it's the effort and thought that go into it that count, not how pretty or expensive or whatever the final product is," DiNozzo said.

Timmy bit his lip. "And if he doesn't like it?"

DiNozzo clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Then there's always the card."

Timmy laughed and Tony cracked a grin. He checked the primer again. "It's dry. Should we start painting?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Timmy said, pulling out paintbrushes. "Should we still start with white, even if we don't put on a design?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "'Cause then at least it's covered all over."

The two boys took their time painting the whole thing white. Tony's coats were pretty thick but uneven, while Timmy's strokes were always thin on the paint but fairly consistent. What Tony lacked in finesse he made up for in confidence, and the reverse was true of Timmy. When the white was on everything, including the bottom, and dry, the two looked at each other. "What do we do now?" Timmy asked.

It was the big moment of truth. Neither of them knew what to do for the design. "I don't...know?" Tony said.

"Well we have to do  _something_!" Timmy exclaimed. "I want Papa to like it!"

"I think he'd like it now," Tony said.

"You always wanna see the best in people, that's why you think that," Timmy said with a scowl. "I don't have that luxury."

Tony scowled back. "You can do it, you just don't want to!"

Timmy grew real quiet at that, and Tony thought he had won, until Timmy said, "No I can't. I'm too smart to think that everyone is nice."

Tony grew red. "Are you calling me stupid?!"

Timmy just scowled in response. Tony growled and grabbed the paints, exclaiming, "I'm not stupid! And we don't need fancy paints for Papa to like his gift!"

"Give them back!" Timmy said, reaching for them.

"No!" Tony said, holding the paints high above his head.

The two shouted at each other behind the closed door of the ballistics lab, and Timmy growled, leaping for the paint, falling into Tony and causing them both to crash to the floor. Tony whacked his head on the ground and found the small paint tubes he was holding burst in his hands, and Timmy's head slammed into Tony's chin, causing more pain for both of them. But the pain wasn't their main concern. No, they were more worried about the paint. "No," Timmy said. "No no no no no no  _no_! Now we can't paint the birdhouse!"

Tony opened his hand, trying to frantically separate the paint in his hands before it mixed, but it was too late. It all made an off-green, off-brown color that was completely useless. "No..." Tony said, tears coming to his eyes. "This was gonna be Papa's special gift! And we ruined it!"

Timmy looked at him with wide eyes. "What are we gonna do?!"

"I...I dunno!" Tony said helplessly.

"We gotta get rid of the evidence," Timmy said, running his hands through his hair. "We need to throw away the paint tubes and you need to wash your hands. That way Papa hopefully won't know what happened."

"What after?" Tony asked.

"Then we...we...I can bring in paints tomorrow maybe? To finish it?"

Tony shook his head. "Papa is gonna want us at his house for the weekend. We won't have another chance to paint it."

Timmy looked like he was about to cry too. "We ruined it!" he exclaimed. "I'm so stupid, we ruined it! I never should have suggested this!"

Tony felt his stomach sink. They weren't gonna be able to fix this in time for Father's Day. "We're just gonna have to hope Papa likes a plain white house," Tony said mournfully.

The two stared at each other uncertainly a second before Timmy stood and offered Tony a hand. "Come on, let's get cleaned up and wrap up the house."

* * *

The next day DiNozzo and McGee kept sending each other nervous glances. DiNozzo was keeping their gift in his desk, but they were still worried about not being able to decorate the house like they wanted. Unfortunately, they couldn't sneak off during lunch to add anything to the gift to make up for it, because Gibbs stayed in house for his lunch today, and they wouldn't be able to sneak a present past him. The day passed entirely too fast, even if it was just a day of B-list cases and paperwork.

When the end of the day came around, Gibbs started packing up and McGee and DiNozzo shared a glance; they weren't ready for tonight.

Gibbs looked over at them expectantly. "Coming home?" he asked.

"Yeah," DiNozzo said, with just enough reluctance in his tone to cause Gibbs to look at him closer.

"You feeling all right, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"Fine," DiNozzo said. He pulled the bag holding the wrapped-up present out of his desk and packed up the rest of his things.

When all three of them were ready to go, they made their way out, saying good night to Ziva, who said she was going to be catching up on some paperwork. The elevator ride was quiet and awkward. Tony shifted on his feet, trying to soothe his nerves, and while McGee was putting up a brave front, Tony could tell that Timmy was right under the surface, more anxious than usual.

Papa didn't fail to notice this, and tried to get the both of them to talk as they left the building. "You have any ideas for dinner?" he asked.

"No," Tony said as McGee shook his head.

"Well, do you want to play any games when you get back?" Papa pressed.

Tony shrugged, and McGee crumbled inward, Timmy taking his place with unbridled fear in his eyes.

"Okay," Papa said. "We can figure it out when we're at home."

The car ride home was even more awkward. Tony sat in the back, playing with the bag in his hands. Timmy kept glancing at it, glancing out the window, and scrunching his face up like he was trying not to cry. Tony felt like he might be sick. He thought Papa might like their gift, but Timmy's doubts were shaking Tony harder than he'd like to admit. He was scared; terrified, even.

It was when they passed the old oak tree that Timmy started to silently cry and Tony turned green. Neither of them could stand this any longer. Papa pulled into the driveway, turning to look at them. "All right, you two, what's been going on with you the past couple days?"

Timmy's cries became audible and Tony's eyes got hot. "Inside?" he requested.

Papa sighed, getting out of the car, Tony following behind, and Timmy rushing after them to try and keep up. When they were inside, Papa sat on the coffee table, and Tony and Timmy took seats on the couch. "We're having a family meeting," Papa said. "I didn't think we'd ever need these, but clearly something's been up with you two. I need to know what in order to help."

"S-Sunday's Father's Day," Tony said softly.

"Okay. And?" Papa asked expectantly.

Timmy reached into the bag, pulling out the card he and Tony had found. "This 's for you," he managed to get out through his tears.

Papa's face was blank. "I still don't understand, boys."

Tony pulled out their present. "Th-this was also supposed to be for Papa, but we messed it up."

"I doubt that," Papa said, reaching a hand out. "Can I see it?"

"Open the card first?" Tony requested. "'Cause we didn't screw that up."

Papa sighed, letting his hand drop and opening the card. "'To Papa: Thank you for being there for us, through the good and the bad, the happy and sad. Love you! XO, Timmy and Tony,'" he read aloud. "Boys, that's so sweet," he said, smiling.

"Doesn' share all of how we feel," Timmy said. "So we wan'ed to make something for you too. But...but we couldn't do it right."

"Can I at least see what you made?" Papa asked.

Tony reluctantly passed the package over, a few tears of his own falling. "Sorry for it being so bad," he whispered.

"Tony, I can't possibly hate anything either of you make. It's not bad, I can tell you that without even opening it," Papa scolded. He tore at the paper, opening it slowly and carefully. "It's a birdhouse," Papa said. "You two...made this?"

"In Abby's lab," Timmy said. "Which is kinda why we were covered in band-aids. Tony can't swing a hammer to save his life."

"Hey!" Tony cried indignantly. "I'm not the one who pushed me while I was holding the paint!"

"No, you just popped the tubes so that we couldn't finish Papa's present!" Timmy said with a scowl.

"Boys!" Papa interjected. "This isn't ruined! It's perfect!"

Both boys turned to him. "What?" Tony asked.

"It's covered in primer and white paint, it's a blank canvas to paint on," Papa said. "And I'd love to paint it with you two, if you'd let me."

"You don't...hate us?" Timmy asked.

"How could I? This is the perfect present! It's something I can make with you guys, and when we're done I can put it out in the backyard to watch the birds through the window," Papa explained.

Timmy hesitantly smiled. "So...we didn't ruin Father's Day?"

"No, you just made it ten times better," Papa said, placing the birdhouse carefully on the table and hugging both of them.

"But...it's lopsided," Tony said.

"I don't expect you boys to make a perfect birdhouse, especially when you have so little experience woodworking under your belt. This is impressive," Papa said. "Feel at all better?"

Tony and Timmy nodded, shooting each other relieved glances.

"Then can I make dinner while you two play?" Papa asked. "No tears?"

"No tears," Tony confirmed.

Timmy nudged him. "You were right!" he chirped. "I've never been so happy to be wrong before!"

Tony laughed. "Wanna make a race with the little cars tonight? I bet I can totally beat you!"

"You're on!" Timmy exclaimed, as Papa moved to the kitchen.

Tony sighed in relief as they went over to their toys. A big knot in his stomach had finally stopped getting worse and seemed to have disappeared entirely. Sometimes, he supposed, mistakes could make things better than they would have been otherwise. This was a very happy accident.


End file.
